Chapter 22.

Fighting the Urge to Shoot the Messenger.

XxX

MPOV

Adam looked like he'd seen a ghost.

I wished I was being purely metaphorical there, but unfortunately, I wasn't. He was standing there, mouth hanging open, and the blood gone from his face. His eyes were wide, and it kind of looked like he was about to scream.

But if Adam looked bad, our little visitor looked a thousand times worse. I pegged her to be about forty-five, with bleached hair and eyes so bulbous that she herself loosely resembled a ghost or something. She was pinned underneath me, and made no effort to squirm free- I might have dropped out of Tai Kwon Do classes when I was sixteen, but I had her heavily restrained- there was no way she was getting back up. Her face was pale beneath the five layers of makeup, and she was breathing heavily. She looked like she wanted to be anywhere but here.

"Who are you?!" I demanded, raising an eyebrow at this small, snivelling woman below me. Who was she? Why was she here? More importantly, how the hell did Adam know her?

Adam made a noise- kind of a bizarre twist between a strangled laugh and a whimper of pain. Adam…I almost relaxed my hold on the woman in my moment of pain. His pain was my pain, and this broad, whoever the hell she was, clearly brought Adam some pain, and I didn't want that. She jerked forward. I shoved her back onto the ground. "Oh no you don't," I snarled. Adam made that funny squeaking noise again, but this time there was no letting her go. I pressed her hard into the ground. "I'm only gonna ask one more time, bitch," I hissed, deliberately making my voice as cold as ice- it was a trick I'd picked up from my father. He'd used it when he used to scold me, or when he scolding someone at court, "Now who the fuck are you?"

"I know who she is," Adam croaked at last. Dropping her purple sequined purse onto the ground, he approached her steadily. Though he still looked sick, there was a steeliness in his eyes that I hadn't seen before. This was what happened to people who had been hurt one too many times- they stopped hurting and became cold. Violent. I'd witnessed the hurtful, enraged Adam during our early days at rehab, but I hadn't imagined…that it'd come back. This woman, whoever she was, had clearly wronged him in the past. It was all I could muster not to slap her a few times. "It's Alison Gordon."

"Adam," Alison whispered, "Please, help me…"

Adam laughed. "And why would I do that, Alison? You've been doing Lawrence's dirty work for months now, making my life hell. Why the hell would I help you?"

Suddenly, everything fell into place. It felt like someone had just dropped a bag of bricks on my head. Gordon…this was Lawrence's wife. Or ex-wife, whatever. It hadn't been Lawrence after all who'd been delivering the letters. It had been his ex, who he was clearly still in contact with. For some obscure reason, Lawrence was threatening Adam through letters delivered by Alison.

Which just made me hate her all the more. "So you're the bitch who's been making Adam's life hell," I said furiously. It was now becoming insanely difficult not to punch the bitch and be done with it. Inside, I could hear my father floundering around in his panic, calling out our names. "Out here, Dad," I called.

"Yeah, we've got them, Mr. Scott," Adam roared. Who cared about waking up half the neighbourhood- we'd finally caught the person responsible for Adam's torment- and there was no way in HELL that I was going to let her go.

"Please, this is a mistake!" Alison cried. I rolled my eyes and positioned myself so that I was better suited to stop her from moving an inch. It worked. She lay silent and sobbing beneath me, and Adam worked his throat once, twice, three times. This situation was horrendous, and I didn't blame him one bit for not knowing how to react. I barely knew how to react to this. All that was going through my mind was Keep her subdued, wait until help arrives.

And help did arrive, in the form of my father. I admit, he didn't look nearly as intimidating as he did in court, because he was clad in a blue fluffy dressing gown, but standing there, his eyes apoplectic with rage, he was a force to be reckoned with. "What in the blazes is going on here?!" he spluttered, taking in Adam, who was as pale as a sheet, Alison, who was whimpering and carrying on below me, and finally me, who kinda looked like I was going to rape her or something. My face went red. I had no intention of doing anything like that, but being caught in such an unflattering position was embarrassing. Dad's eyes narrowed. I hastily dug my elbow deeper into her throat, effectively rendering her speechless.

"We caught the intruder, Dad," I said clearly, filling my voice with as much venom as I possibly could. This bitch deserved everything she got. I half-hoped that she'd even go to jail. Sure, she hadn't done anything huge in the eyes of the law- aside from breaking into our house- but she'd caused so much emotional pain to Adam that I just couldn't let that slide. Come to think of it, maybe Lawrence deserved whatever his ex got as well. I mean, I couldn't just let these people hurt Adam and get away with it!

Huh. I was beginning to sound more like my father every day. Maybe that wasn't such a bad thing.

"Let her go, Mallick," Dad said quietly. I gaped at him, uncomprehending. I was pretty sure that Adam was doing the same.

"What?"

"Let her go so I can interrogate her myself," he growled, and for a second, he was the scariest guy I'd ever seen, attackers or no attackers. His blue eyes burned. There was really no other word for it. I was endlessly grateful that I'd never been on the receiving end of one of those glares. "Mallick."

"Oh, right." I climbed off of her, to both of our reliefs. She smelt like perfume- the cheap, nasty kind. I moved away, but made sure I was well within striking distance should she do something stupid- like pull out a gun or something. Adam circled around behind her, his brown eyes hard. His jaw was clenched, and I knew he was barely resisting the urge to cuss her out or beat the shit out of her- I knew him too well to misunderstand that expression. But, like me, he withheld from doing anything like that. He wanted to know what would happen to her.

Alison sat up. Her hair was caked with dirt, and I could see a bruise forming where I'd shoved my elbow into her throat. Uh, whoops. Her eyes were terrified, and her voice was equally as scared. "Please don't hurt me," she whispered. Dad said nothing, only stared at her ferociously. I didn't blame her for a second when she recoiled. "What…what are you going to do with me?"

Dad ignored her question. "Who are you, and what were you doing in our house?" he asked clearly, calmly- if his hands weren't shaking, I would have said that he was eerily calm about the whole thing, but he was just as pissed as the rest of us, perhaps more so. Which was funny in a way, because he hadn't the faintest idea of who she was, or the damage she had done to Adam, but he was still angry on our behalf. Or, you know, he just didn't like random women stalking and breaking into his house, which I couldn't fault him for anyway.

She looked at my father, then at me, and then at Adam, and gulped. She seemed to decide that talking was a better plan than fleeing, because she said, "My name is- was- Alison Gordon. It's Alison Chadwick now."

"Chadwick?" Adam murmured, looking mystified.

"My maiden name," Alison said. "I'm no longer married, as you full well know." Dad had to be a simpleton or just too damn focused on apprehending Alison to NOT get the implications in those words. Adam went purple, bypassing red entirely. Me, I felt the blood drain out of my face. She knew. God knew how, but this bitch knew that Adam and I were dating.

My anger at her intrusiveness into our lives grew. She had no right. She had no goddamn right.

"You still haven't answered my other question," Dad snarled suddenly, "What were you doing on our property?"

"Delivering a message," Alison said promptly, and, after receiving two glares from Adam and I, shut up. I knew the story. I knew that Adam was gay, and had dated Lawrence briefly after their encounter with the Jigsaw killer, and that their dating had caused Alison and Lawrence to divorce, but Dad didn't know that. He hadn't the faintest inkling that Adam was gay, or that I was gay. Or, you know, that we were going out. And I sure as hell wasn't going to let some bitch break that news to my father, and sure as hell not NOW.

With everything that had happened tonight, I was willing to bet that Dad wouldn't take the news very well.

"A message?" Dad asked furiously, "From who?"

"I'm not at liberty to say." Yeah, bullshit, Alison.

Dad whipped out his cellphone, which I found kinda amusing. Trust Dad to come storming downstairs wearing nothing but a dressing gown, but remembering to take his cell with him. It was so typical of him. "I'm calling the police," he announced. "I don't care what piece of crap message you're coming to deliver, but nobody lays a toe on my fucking property without my say-so." He smiled sweetly. "I do hope you like court, Miss Chadwick."

Alison Chadwick got up, and started to run.

"Oh no, you fucking don't," I snarled, and tackled her again.

APOV

Call me strange, but the sight of Mallick tackling Alison was oddly hot. Alison had nothing to do with it (in fact, I'd MUCH have rather been the one he'd been tackling), but screw it, if I couldn't admire my boyfriend, then what the hell had the world come to?

I know, I know, pretty weird of me to even be THINKING about that, especially after everything that had happened, but give me a break, I was tired. Tired physically, but tired mentally as well. I mean…it was over. We'd caught Alison in the act. There'd be no more letters from hell! If I hadn't been so tired that I was in serious danger of falling unconscious on the spot, I would have cheered. Who would have thought that it was ALISON delivering the letters?

More to the point, who would've thought that we had finally caught her?

But…something wasn't quite right.

What had Mallick said before?

"I've been expecting you!" His words resonated through my mind, and I frowned. What the…? Had Mallick KNOWN when Alison was going to break in? How could he have…?

"Adam, I could use some help here," Mallick panted, doing his best to pin a thrashing and screaming Alison down. That jerked me back to reality. Whatever the case, Mallick needed help right now, securing a woman who had made several months of my life hell. I sprang into action and grabbed her arms. Unsure of what to do without hurting her (although I REALLY wanted to sock her in the face, at least once!), I pinned her arms behind her, rendering her harmless.

"Get off of me!" she screamed. Several people's porch lights flickered on. Great. We were getting an audience.

I grinned at her. "Not a chance, Chadwick."

XxX

Dad made one phone call, and practically an entire SWAT team arrived. Well, not entirely. Loads of police officers, a few forensic dudes, and even a couple of reporters, and it took around twenty minutes for them to get here, but in America, that's legendary speed. You could be being mugged right in front of the police station and it'd still take them an hour to sort you out, provided you weren't dead or something. Okay, maybe that's an exaggeration. But still, outside help getting here in the time that they did was awesome.

I even saw a familiar face.

"Hoffman!" I exclaimed, once Eric (ugh, I forgot how much I had hated that guy!) and Kerry had Alison in custody. The big guy turned around, and sure enough, it was my good friend Mark Hoffman. His stern face broke out into a huge grin.

"Adam Faulkner," he rumbled, and enveloped me in a huge hug. Eric rolled his eyes, but Kerry seemed amused. "Why am I not surprised that you're in trouble again?"

"Pure talent," I said, beckoning Mallick over. He did so, albeit a bit reluctantly. What was his problem?

"You do have a knack for attracting trouble," Hoffman boomed, "And didn't I say to call me Mark? You never listen to me, Faulkner!"

"He doesn't listen to anybody," Mallick said cheerfully, "Believe me, I've been trying."

"I believe you," Hoffman- MARK- said. He beamed at Mallick. "So you're the roommate, huh? I'm Mark Hoffman." And he offered a huge, calloused hand to my boyfriend. Mallick took it, grinning. It was as if he'd never not wanted to come over here.

"Mallick Scott," he said informally. "You were Adam's chauffeur, huh?"

"The one and only," Mark boomed. "Thankfully, though, I don't have to anymore. I was hoping he'd stay out of trouble, but-"

"It's Adam," Mallick said, grinning coyly at me. I flushed. What was he trying to do?! "He can't stay out of it."

"I know," Mark said, frowning. "She been bothering you two a lot, then?" He jerked his head over at Alison, who was being hauled into the squad car. I took some sick glee in the fact that Eric held no reservations about being forceful with a woman- she bumped her head on the way inside the car.

I scowled. "You could say that."

Mallick's father was busy talking to Kerry and a man I'd never seen before. He was younger than the rest of them, and spoke with a heavy Southern drawl. A badge on his chest read 'Gibson'. Mark's voice brought me back to the present with an unpleasant bump.

"What the hell is Alison Chadwick doing here?" he wondered. "I thought she was out of the state by now."

My scowl deepened. "That's what I'd like to know." Mallick nodded empathetically beside me.

"Rest assured, you'll be the first to know," Mark assured me, clapping me on the shoulder. It was like being punched- he was that strong. Briefly I remembered him slamming a fist into my face, of which the bruises were only just fading. Eric, Kerry and Gibson appeared to be done with my father, and were eyeing us curiously, Eric somewhat snottily. I gave him my biggest grin, making sure it didn't reach my eyes. The cop stiffened and scowled at me. Yeah, screw you too, Eric Matthews. "I've gotta go," Mark said slowly, "I'll probably see you around, knowing your knack for trouble." He winked. "Email me sometime." And with a big wave, he was in his boat of a car and gone, just like that.

Mallick and I stood there, watching Alison disappear. Was it really over? Was it REALLY? Somehow, I couldn't believe that it was just that easy.

But apparently it was. All three of us had given our statements to the police, and, after much hustle and bustle, Alison and the cops were gone, and it was just the three of us now, standing there in the front lawn, shivering our asses off. The street was lit up like a Christmas tree, but, as our neighbours realised that nothing more was going to happen, they ducked back inside, and the street was dark once more. "My God," Mr. Scott said weakly, mopping his brow, "That was certainly a turn of events."

"Tell me about it," I mumbled, and glanced over at Mallick. Now that the fight was over and done with, he seemed awkward, tense. He was pale and the bags under his eyes had darkened somewhat, making him appear in the night like a vampire or some shit. The baseball bat lay forgotten in the grass. Exhaling noisily, I went over and retrieved it- since it hadn't actually been used in the confrontation, it hadn't been taken away as evidence or whatever. I twirled the bat absentmindedly.

…Wow. Just, wow. I couldn't believe what had happened. Why the shit was Alison out here, anyway?!

I realised I was in serious danger of hitting either Mallick or his dad with the bat, so I stopped throwing it around like a lunatic. After a little more discussion, we all went back inside. It was damned cold outside.

"Well, I daresay none of us will be going back to sleep after that," Mallick's dad declared. "I'm going to go and make a cup of coffee. You boys want some?"

"Maybe something stronger," Mallick murmured, running a hand through his tousled hair. Man, he really did look like shit. Tonight had been terrifying. When they both looked at me for confirmation, I nodded enthusiastically. Yep, something stronger was in order, all right. We'd just caught Alison Gordon (sorry, CHADWICK) who'd been delivering those mysterious, ominous envelopes that had made my life hell. It was all over. All of it.

I was so happy. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off of my shoulders, and I could finally breathe easy. I wasn't going to get any more of those damned letters, and it felt awesome.

"Some Scotch on the rocks for you two," Mr. Scott was saying as he handed us a glass. I sniffed it tenderly. I'd never had Scotch before. That might sound weird, but back in the day when I had lived in my own flat, and made a living out of photography (as well as doing drugs), I'd always had to make do with the cheap, nasty kind of booze. The kind that kids bought because buying Dom Perignom or any of that other expensive shit was kind of conspicuous.

I heard a chuckle beside me, and I glanced over, to see Mallick eyeing me with amusement. "You don't smell it, you drink it," he grinned, and though all it did was highlight just how tired he was, I couldn't help the warm feelings that sprang up inside me. He was so cute…and I hadn't even taken a sip of this stuff yet.

"I know that," I grumbled, and downed the glass in one gulp. I came up spluttering. That stuff was a lot stronger than I'd thought! Mallick laughed, his eyes sparkling. "Let's go, mister," he said, taking my glass from me and placing his own on the counter. "We're off to bed, pop," he called over his shoulder. Mr. Scott blinked.

"I don't know how you boys are going to manage," came the reply. Mallick just laughed, and continued to pull me up the staircase.

"We'll manage," Mallick said, his voice suddenly a seductive purr. Hidden away safely on the top floor, there was no way his father could see us unless he climbed the stairs- and we'd hear him if he did.

I grinned as he pressed his lips to mine eagerly. Alison might have made my life hell, but if this was the reward, then I'd have her stalk me any day.